


Wasn't Expecting That

by wildlyricalair



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Background Arya/Gendry, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, Tutoring
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-30
Updated: 2018-11-28
Packaged: 2018-12-21 14:35:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 19,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11946312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wildlyricalair/pseuds/wildlyricalair
Summary: Sansa needs help on her Poli Sci paper, so she asks Professor Lannister's TA, Podrick for help.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey y'all. I'm supposed to be reading a book for school, so obviously here I am posting a new story. It started out based on a mountain of tumblr prompts that I wanted to do with this pairing and it turned into... thissss. It's gonna be a long one, because I love slow burns and I love this pairing so much and I just want to spend all my time with them. Please, let me know what you think. I'm having so much fun with these two; they make me so happy. I hope my version of them makes you happy too :)

 “Podrick, right?” Pod glanced up, startled. A pretty redhead was standing in front of him, face carefully blank, clutching a stack of papers in her hands.

 “Yes. Pod. Podrick, I mean. I’m Podrick.”

Something flashed behind her eyes and one corner of her mouth softened slightly. “Right. You’re Professor Lannister’s TA?”

“Tyrion. Professor Lannister. Political Science. Yes. I’m his TA.” He fought the overwhelming urge to smack himself. So stupid.

She nodded, pursing her lips. “Then you know what he’s looking for, in his papers.”

“Yes. I mean. I grade them, sometimes. The papers.”

Her face hardened again. “Did you grade these?” She shoved the handful of papers at him, and he took them carefully, glancing over them to check for his messy scribbles on the last page.

He nodded again. “Yes. I did. Grade them, I mean.”

She eyed him coldly. “Then can you explain to me what I’m doing wrong? I haven’t cracked higher than a 79 on an assignment all semester.”

“That’s good though,” Pod frowned. “I mean. There’s nothing wrong with C’s. You’ll still pass. The class, I mean.” He glanced at the name on the front page of her papers. Sansa Stark.

Sansa Stark glared down at him. “I have A’s and B’s in all my other classes. I don’t want a C in Lannister’s class. It’ll mess up my GPA. I can do better.”

“Um.” Pod cleared his throat. “I wrote… notes. There are notes at the end. Things you can improve on. On your papers, I mean.”

She scrunched her eyes shut, clearly frustrated.  “But obviously I don’t understand them, if I’m not getting any better.”

Pod looked up at her helplessly. “Well, you can get a tutor. A writing tutor. In the Writing Center, if you want. I mean. They could proofread your papers for you. If that might help.”

She scowled at him. “My writing is fine, you said so in your notes. But apparently I’m addressing the concepts all wrong.”

Pod gaped up at her, opening and closing his mouth like a fish. He was out of words. She glared down at him for what felt like an eternity, then softened again. “Could you tutor me? You know what Professor Lannister wants, you could tell me what to fix before I turned them in.”

Pod hesitated. “I guess so. I mean. I could do that. Tutor you, I mean. If you wanted me to.”

She smiled. “I do want you to. That’s why I asked.”

He nodded. “Okay. Yeah. I can. Help you.”

“Great.” She stuck a pen into his hand. “Just put your email somewhere on there,” she motioned to the paper in his hand, “And I’ll get in touch after break to see when we can meet. Sound good?”

Pod nodded again and scribbled his email address onto the paper. “Yeah. Great. That works. For me, I mean. Okay. Yeah.”

Her hand flew up to her mouth as a soft giggle escaped her lips. “Sorry. I’m so sorry. You’re a sweet guy, Podrick. Thanks. I’ll be in touch. Have a great break.”

“You too. You have a good break too, I mean.” Pod lifted a hand to wave as she turned to go, then dropped it just as suddenly when he realized her back was to him. “Stupid,” he muttered to himself. “Stupid, stupid. Shut up.” He shook his head and returned to his reading, picking up his highlighter and sticking it into his mouth as he found his place in his textbook again.

 

* * *

 

 

“Whoa, is it really 7:30?” Sansa leaned back in her chair and leaned back into an extended, graceful stretch of her back and arms. “No wonder I’m so hungry.”

They’d worked through six hours, a detailed outline, three leg-stretching walks around the third floor of the library (according to Brienne, Pod’s boss, the best ideas come when you’re moving), half a dozen reference books, and what Pod assured Sansa was a brilliant start to the research portion of the paper before he closed the laptop and got up to return the books to the cart at the end of the long row of shelves across form them. Sansa folded her notebook shut and tucked it into her bag, stifling a yawn with the back of her hand. Pod returned to the table and nodded. “We got a lot done. I think you should be able to get your rough draft done on your own, and then I’ll read through it for you and give you some notes. If you want them.”

Sansa grinned up at him. “Hey. Thank you so much, Podrick. You have no idea how much I appreciate this. And staying and helping me this long on a Sunday? You definitely didn’t have to do that.”

Pod’s cheeks reddened, and he shrugged, eyes firmly fixed on the table in front of him. “It’s – I – I – I’m happy to help.”

Her smile softened, and she got to her feet, slinging her bag over her shoulder. “You’re sweet. You want to grab a bite? My treat, since you won’t let me pay you?”

“Um. Sure. That sounds good. Food, I mean. Wh – what – I mean, where do you want to go?” Pod pulled his jacket on and wrapped his scarf around his neck before hoisting his backpack up onto his shoulders.

Sansa considered for a moment, then asked, “Do you like sushi?”

Half an hour later, they were seated across from each other against one wall of a buzzing sushi restaurant. Pod gazed around at the wooden walls, which were covered with an array of samurai paintings, sake ads, and handwritten descriptions of special rolls which all seemed to include cream cheese and jalapenos. A TV on the opposite wall was playing the Sunday Night Football game, which Sansa cast a wayward glance at, then turned back to Pod. “You a Thunder fan?”

He shrugged and shook his head. “Not really. A Thunder fan. I grew up watching Casterly Rock – the Lions, I mean – “ he stopped short when Sansa sucked in her breath through her teeth in a loud hiss.

“A Lions fan? Aw, just when I was starting to think you were an okay guy, Podrick.” The redness began to creep up in his cheeks, and when the poor boy began to stammer Sansa immediately realized what she’d done and hastened to assure him, “I’m just kidding. We just hate the Lions where I come from. But that’s not your fault. That Wolves-Lions rivalry is a hard thing to get over in the North.”

Pod coughed out something like a chuckle and gave a hesitant smile. “Sorry. For liking the Lions, I mean.”

Sansa tossed her head back and laughed, wide grin on her face as she looked back to Pod. “That’s alright, my sister’s best friend is a Thunder fan, and she hasn’t killed him yet. So how was your break?” she asked, reaching out to take a sip of her tea.

“Good,” Pod dipped his head down and back up again, picking up his paper-wrapped chopsticks and tapping them lightly against the table. “I went up North. To the Gift. With Doctor – Professor – Miss – “ he cleared his throat and shook his head. “Brienne Tarth and the Lannisters. Brienne and Coach Lannister met with a player. A cornerback. Professor Lannister went too, because he wanted to see The Wall. I had to go. With them, I mean. Since I work with Brienne and play for Coach Lannister and TA for Tyrion. And I didn’t have other plans. For fall break. They decided I should come. North. With them.”

Sansa wrapped her long, slender fingers around the small, ceramic teacup and relished the warmth that seeped through into her hands and up her arms. “Right. You’re Tarth’s assistant, right?”

He nodded. “I help her. Sometimes. Not that she needs it. My help. But sometimes she does. Need me, I mean.”

“And you’re Tyrion Lannister’s TA. And you play football, too?”

Pod’s head bobbed up and down again as he focused in on his chopsticks, flipping them between his fingers, then standing them up and balancing his finger on top of them. “Yeah. I do. Play football, I mean.”

She studied him, noting the way his hair hung down into his eyes, which flickered between the chopsticks, the plate in front of him, his water cup, and her face, the way he shifted a bit in his seat as she leaned forward to hear him better. “I’m sorry, I don’t remember… what position do you play?”

The red had just receded from his face, but at her question it all came flooding back into his cheeks. “Punter. I punt. The ball. And hold it. For the kicker.”

“Oh. Okay. You’re the starting punter?” Something niggled at the back of her mind. The punter had… she sat up in her seat and stared at him for a moment, realization dawning in her eyes. “Oh my god. Payne. Podrick Payne. You’re _the_ Payne aren’t you? The punter who threw that touchdown pass on the trick play in the championship game last year?”

The red darkened and spread from his cheeks into his temples. “Yeah. Me. Podrick Payne. That’s me.” His eyes were now firmly fixed on his hands, which were wrapped tightly around his chopsticks and twisting the wrapper back and forth.

She laughed and brushed her hair back behind her ear. “Wow. Okay. My sister and her buddies would not shut up about that play for like, weeks after the game. You were practically a celebrity for a while there. I knew your name sounded familiar.”

Podrick’s entire face was now a deep shade of chartreuse. “Um. Well. I mean. We won the game, so. No one would have remembered that play if we hadn’t. Won, I mean.”

“Well, you saved Coach Lannister, winning that game. And Tarth, by proxy. People were kind of pissed when she promoted him to head coach. If he’d lost in the championship he would have been gone.”

Pod shrugged and set his chopsticks down, reaching for his water and taking a cooling sip. The red faded to a deep pink as he put the glass back down and replied, “Well. He’s a good coach, though. I mean. I like him. Coach Lannister.”

Sansa’s lips spread into a soft grin and she twisted her hair back, draping the long curtain of auburn over one shoulder and leaning over to rest her forearm on the edge of the table. “That’s what I hear. I guess we’ll see if he’s still as good this year.” The waitress appeared and set a long plate filled with various types of sushi on the table between them. Pod fidgeted for a moment as Sansa mixed her wasabi and soy sauce, then snapped her chopsticks apart and reached for a piece of yellowtail. She motioned to the plate. “Help yourself. The salmon is always really good here,” she waved her chopsticks over a pink slab of fish placed artfully on top of a ball of rice, “or the halibut. This place is my favorite because they always have halibut.”

He eyed the plate a bit nervously, then broke his chopsticks apart and tentatively reached out to pinch a piece of tuna between them. When he lifted his hand up, the fish dangled precariously between the sticks, but the rice wobbled and fell to the plate after only a brief second. He pursed his lips and put the fish down on his plate, going back for the rice. “He is. Still good. This year, I mean. Coach Lannister. We’re eleven and one, so far. One more game when we get back, and then playoffs. Hopefully we’ll at least get back to the Winter Bowl again this year. Brienne thinks we will. Jaime, too. And the guys. Me, too. I think we can. Do it. Win, I mean.”

He managed to flip the rice over twice without actually lifting it more than an inch off the plate, and Sansa pressed her lips together to hide a smile. “My family seems to think so, too,” she rearranged her chopsticks in her hand slowly, and clearly within Pod’s view, then reached out and picked up a piece of salmon and set it on her plate, still holding her chopsticks. She continued talking as Pod surreptitiously watched her hands and moved his fingers slightly around the chopsticks to mimic her position. “Not that we’re happy about it. We’re die hard Winterfell fans. Obviously. Being Starks, and all,” she grinned self-consciously. “But Arya and Jon are convinced you guys can win it all this year,” she paused, then added, “Arya’s my sister. And Jon’s my cousin. But he grew up with us, so Arya calls him our brother. Anyways, Arya and Jon are betting against the rest of the family on you guys.

“Of course, Arya’s really good friends with your assistant coach. Gendry? She never mentions his last name – I’d be surprised if she even bothered to learn it,” she chuckled. 

Pod had managed to get the rice onto his plate and dragged the tuna back on top of it. Slowly, with an almost painful amount of caution, he squeezed the sides of the sushi with the chopsticks and lifted it to his mouth, shoving the entire piece into his mouth and setting his chopsticks down, clearly pleased with himself. He gulped down the sushi and looked back up at Sansa. “Coach Waters. Yeah, I know Arya. She hangs around with Gendry all the time.”

“All the time, right?” Sansa rolled her eyes. “They’re attached at the hip, those two. Not that I’ve met him. She’s afraid I’ll be mean to him, or something, I think. Whatever. Anyways, he says you guys can win this year, and she believes him. So I guess we’ll see what happens. Winterfell’s your last season game, and oh, gods, is my family hyped for that match.”

Pod’s reply was cut off by the waitress’ return with the second plate of sushi and extra napkins and – praise the Seven – a couple of forks.  

 

* * *

 

Sansa chewed on her lip as she read through Pod’s scribbles on the rough draft of her weekly assignment. She didn’t glance up as Pod approached and set a coffee cup down beside her hand, then settled into the seat across from her. He watched her tentatively as her brows slid lower and lower in her forehead the further she read. Pod eyed her a bit nervously as he saw her eyes still at the end of the page, but she said nothing and as the silence stretched on, Pod took a noisy sip of his coffee and fidgeted as his discomfort grew by the moment.

Eventually, he stammered out, “Does… does it all make sense? My notes?”

She hesitated, then nodded, then stopped, brows furrowed, and shook her head. “I don’t… I can’t… Your handwriting is a little bit illegible, Podrick.” She glanced up and shoved the paper at him, pointing to the place at the end where he had written a long chunk of notes. “What. What does that even say?” Pod flushed, but as his eyes flitted up to her face, the slight twinkle in her eye and the twist of her lips as she handed the paper over alerted him that she was teasing.

Pod leaned forward and examined the notes, then cleared his throat. “It says that your reasoning is inconsistent. In some places, you’re asserting that conflict between classes is inherent, and in others you seem to go back on that, a little bit. Does that make sense?” He glanced up to see Sansa staring at him, an inscrutable expression on her face. He felt a flicker of nerves in his chest as she continued to watch him. “Is – d – what?”

Sansa flashed half a grin and shook her head slightly with a soft smile on her face. “You didn’t stutter once while you were explaining that, did you know?”

The slight pink in his cheeks turned an alarming shade of scarlet, and he stammered, “I – I didn’t – I – I –“

“Oh no, I’m sorry, I wasn’t trying to make you uncomfortable, Podrick,” Sansa hastened to explain, “I just thought… Well, you just really seemed to know what you were talking about. I thought it was nice that you’re so confident talking about this stuff. It does the opposite for me,” her smile turned rueful. “It turns me into a babbling idiot.”

Pod shook his head. “That’s not true. You’re not an idiot, I mean. I’ve sat in on your class a couple of times. Your class with Tyrion. You always made good points. You understand most of it well, I think. You just have kind of a hard time putting it on paper.”

Sansa cocked her head to one side and studied him appraisingly. “That… Thank you. That’s encouraging. Especially considering how hard you’ve panned all of my written work prior to this,” a slow grin spread across her face, and she wrinkled her nose to show she’d gone back to joking with him.

Pod smiled. “Anything I can do. To help, I mean.”

She rolled her eyes and leaned back in her seat. “So, how’s that cornerback from The Gift looking? Think he’ll be a Kingsguard next year?” She mimed drawing a sword from her hip and raising it in the air – the ‘Battle Sign’ for the Red Keep Kingsguard.

Pod shrugged. “He’s pretty good, but I think he’s fielding some other offers. We ran into Yoren out of Castle Black and the Cassels from – “

“Winterfell,” Sansa nodded. “Rodrik and Jory. They’re pretty tight with our organization; my mum thinks Jory might eventually come and work for us someday. So mostly Northern schools interested in this corner, then? He must be amazing,” she winked.

“That we saw,” Pod responded. “It’s mostly Northern schools, I mean. And also that he’s good. But Brienne heard that Lannisport and Harrenhal have been up there, too. We’ll see where he ends up. Jaime doesn’t like him enough to give him a full-ride –  a full-ride scholarship. To play for us, I mean – so Winterfell might actually get him, or the Crows.”

“Cool,” Sansa grinned. “Did you do anything fun while you were up north? Get any skiing in, or anything? Or snowboarding? Snowball fight? Anything to get some enjoyment out of the snow?”

Pod shook his head. “Tyrion doesn’t really like being outside. In the cold. And Brienne and Jaime were mostly watching film and arguing the whole time. Game film, I mean. Not movie films.”

Sansa laughed. “I like the image of them arguing over _Burn Them All,_ though. Was the king born mad, or did the raven drive him mad with its whispers? Was the assassination justified, or should the guard have kept his vow? Did the CG Dragons look real, or did they need a few more polygons?” The two shared a chuckle and after a moment, Sansa mused, “I’ve never seen Jaime Lannister really argue with anyone, though. He always looks so relaxed.”

“He usually is,” Pod agreed. “Relaxed, I mean. But he and Brienne never stop arguing. With each other.  They pick at each other. A lot.”

“It probably means they’re in love,” Sansa declared knowingly.

Pod nearly choked on the sip of water he’d been taking and accidentally slammed his cup down on the table as he coughed a few times to recover. Sansa laughed and asked, “What, you hadn’t considered that before? The only two options are that they hate each other or are totally in love. And they clearly don’t hate each other.”

“How does fighting all the time mean they’re in love?” Pod asked, wiping the back of his hand over the corner of his mouth. He stopped midway through the motion, picked up a napkin, and raised it to his mouth to wipe away what water still remained on his face.

“It doesn’t for everyone,” Sansa shrugged, “But it might for Jaime and Brienne. It definitely does for Arya and Gendry.”

“Arya and Gendry? B - but they’re just – I thought they were just friends. Not dating, I mean,” Pod pushed his cup away from him, seemingly attempting to avoid another accident.

“Oh, they’re not dating,” Sansa said, “But they’re definitely in love. They just don’t know it yet. Have you seen them together? Soulmates.”

Pod chuckled and shook his head. “Maybe. You might be right. About Arya and Gendry, I mean. I don’t know about Jaime and Brienne.”

Sansa cocked and eyebrow and leaned back in her seat, oddly smug. “I am. Just you wait.” She glanced at Pod, who was tipping his water glass slowly back and forth on the table. “Why are you drinking water? I thought you were a coffee guy?”

“I am,” he nodded. “But I’ve got practice in,” he glanced at his phone, “Half an hour. Probably shouldn’t load up on caffeine. Right before practice, I mean.”

“Oh, right!” Sansa beamed. “Big game on Saturday, huh? Gotta send those Raiders crying back to Pyke.”

Pod’s face cracked into a shy grin. “Yeah, should be a good one. Will you be there? At the game, I mean.”

“Of course! I never miss a game. I skipped a few the year after I quit cheer, but I actually kinda missed it, and plus between Arya and Margaery I’d never even have the option to stay home.”

Pod nodded. “I remember when you did cheer. When you were a cheerleader. How come you quit?”

She hesitated, pursed her lips. Shrugged. “I, um. I just got tired of it. I did it all through high school, and then I did a year when I first got here, and then I just… didn’t like it anymore.”  After another moment, she opened her mouth as if to say more, but then stopped and shook her head. “There was a lot going on my freshman year. I got to the end of it and just wanted to focus on school. Nothing to distract me, you know? So I quit.” Her teeth darted out to chew on her lower lip, but she shrugged again and lowered her head to look at the paper again, her long, red hair sweeping forward to obscure her face.

Pod nodded, and Sansa knew he knew there was more she wasn’t saying. He took a sip of his water, then said, “It’s too bad. Now you have all that extra time, and no excuse for not acing Tyrion’s class.”

It took a moment, but Sansa lifted her head slowly, mouth hanging open and eyes dancing, and she gave one breathy, incredulous laugh. “Oh, wow. Okay.” She reached across and gave him a light smack on the arm. “I came to you, if I fail then it’s not my fault, it’s my tutor’s. Ass.”

Pod laughed. “I don’t know if that’s fair, but whatever you say, I guess.”

Sansa giggled and brushed her hair back behind her ear. “That’s right. Now, get outta here. Go practice. I’ll be mad if I have to take time out of my busy failing Poli-Sci schedule to watch our team lose.”

Pod took one last drink of water and got to his feet, his smile still lingering. “Alright. I’ll see you Saturday at the game, then?”

“You will,” she nodded, beaming up at him. As he stepped past her, she tapped his hip with her paper and murmured, “Thanks for this. I’ll text you if I have any questions.”

Pod smiled and dipped his head as he moved past her and out the door. “See you, Sansa.”

 


	2. Chapter 2

“I’m just saying, is that really allowed?” Arya shouted over the crowd as they watched the Raiders take their last timeout of the game. “Like, it seems like getting help from the guy who grades the papers is kind of a cheat.”

Sansa shrugged. “Pod says it’s fine. And Professor Lannister says we’re allowed to turn in drafts of our work early to have it looked over before we turn in the final paper, so this is basically the same thing.”

Arya shrugged. “Alright, whatever. As long as you get your B. So what do you think, one more play and then Hail Mary?”

“They’d better not go for the Hail Mary. They’re almost in field goal range, they’d be better off kicking it,” Sansa disagreed, cheering with the rest of the crowd as the teams jogged back to the line of scrimmage. “Not that it matters if we get the stop here.”

The Pyke Raiders had no timeouts left, were down two points, and needed five yards to get within field goal range for their kicker, with fifteen seconds left on the clock. All the Kingsguard needed to do was stop this play and let the clock run out to get the win; as the teams lined up against each other, the crowd roared and howled and did everything they could to disrupt Pyke’s ability to get off a clean play. Sansa and Arya cheered and screamed with the rest, and whooped joyfully when Harry Hardyng knocked a pass right out of the Pyke receiver’s hands, nearly intercepting it in the process.

The clock stopped. Seven seconds left. “Hail Mary,” Arya predicted as the teams made their way back to the line. “Greyjoy’s got an arm.”

“Field goal,” Sansa hisses back. “They’ll play it safe – they always do.”

The teams lined up in field goal formation; Sansa shot Arya a superior look. The center snapped the ball, the punter caught it, the kicker ran forward –

And then the punter yanked the ball away, jumped to his feet, and tossed the ball to a lineman who was sprinting toward the endzone. “Trick!” Arya screeched as the crowd groaned and held their breaths, watching the ball spiral through the air. The lineman reached, bobbled the ball, caught it – and was immediately slammed to the ground by a blur that appeared to be clad in Kingsguard gold – a yard shy of the endzone.

The King’s Landing crowd erupted all at once, screaming as the clock ticked down to nothing and the Raiders’ score remained two points lower than the Kingsguard’s. Arya and Sansa were jumping and screaming and hugging each other and Arya was leaping to see who had made the tackle. “Who was it? Who got him?”

The guy behind them whooped and hollered and shook Arya and Sansa by the shoulders, “The Punter! The punter made the play! The goddamn punter saved it!”

Sansa’s face lit up and she stood up on her toes to see Pod being besieged by his teammates, some cracking their helmets against his, others jumping at him and lifting him up off the ground, still others running up to slap him on the back or give him a joyful shove. “It was! It was Podrick!” She squealed, giving Arya’s shoulder another shake and beginning to squeeze through the crowd to make her way down to the front of the stands.

The team began making their way back to the locker room, and Sansa leaned over the railing of the stands and shouted, “Pod! Podrick!”

He had shed his helmet and was beaming and sweaty, hair mussed, and when he heard his name being called, he turned and smiled up at Sansa, looking pleasantly surprised to see her hanging halfway off the stands, decked out in white and gold, complete with gold eyeshadow and thick lines of eyeblack on her cheeks. “Sansa!” He shouted, his smile so big his face looked as though it might split open.

“That was amazing!” She yelled as people pushed past her and she leaned over the railing of the stands. “You were so fast, I couldn’t even tell it was you until you got up! You’re amazing!”

His face, already red from exertion and happiness and having been squeezed into a helmet on and off for three hours, somehow managed to redden even further. “Thanks!”

She beamed at him and asked, “You going to the Tyrells’ party?”

“Sansa!” Arya leaned over the railing from a dozen feet away. “I’m leaving! Gendry and I are going for drinks with Lommy and Hot Pie!”

Sansa waved to her. “Tell him congrats! Don’t drink too much; I’m not coming to get your drunk ass at two in the morning!”

Arya stuck her tongue out at her sister and snapped, “Don’t worry, Gendry’ll bring me home!” She jerked forward as someone shoved their way past her, then swung a leg over the railing and hung off the edge of the stands. Gendry materialized, seemingly from nowhere, and offered a hand for Arya to leap down to the ground and bounce away with her friend.

Sansa rolled her eyes and grinned at Pod, who smiled shyly back. “So?” she called down. “Are you going?”

“Yeah,” Pod nodded. “I’m going. To the party, I mean. I have to stop by Brienne’s office first, but I’ll be there later.”

“Good,” she beamed. “I’ll see you there!” She stepped back, melting into the stream of exiting fans and students and leaving Pod to walk back to the locker room with Lancel Lannister and Dickon Tarly as they chattered excitedly about the game.

 

* * *

 

 

The Tyrells’ party was in full swing when Pod walked in with Devan Seaworth and Ned Dayne. Just as soon as he walked through the door a large body collided with him, knocking Pod a couple steps to the side, and into a cheerleader that was standing a few feet from him. The cheerleader shrieked and turned to ream Pod out, but then saw who he was and brightened. “Ohmygod! Hi, Podrick! Look everyone, it’s Podrick!”

Little Walder Frey, the hulking Center who had originally bumped into Pod, cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted, “Let’s hear it for Tri-Pod! The Hero of the Kingsguard!” A wave of cheers and raised beer cups made its way around the room, and Pod found himself being hoisted up onto the shoulders of Arryk and Erryk and bounced up and down raucously as most of the room chanted, “Tri-Pod! Tri-Pod!” over and over. Heat flooded his face and he tried to look anywhere other than the faces of the crowd around him. Through the bouncing, his eyes landed briefly on the balcony that overlooked the Tyrells’ foyer and caught a glimpse of Sansa leaning over the railing, her red hair draped artfully over her shoulder and half a giggle still on her lips.

Arryk and Erryk bounced Pod all the way into the kitchen, where they dumped him unceremoniously to the ground and Margaery Tyrell, ever the gracious hostess, was waiting to hand him a red plastic cup nearly overflowing with beer. “You were amazing in the game, Podrick. I’m so glad you made it,” half of her mouth curled up into an enticing smirk. “Don’t worry, I’ll distract them and you can sneak out that door if you’ve had enough attention for the evening,” she made a subtle gesture toward a second doorway out of the kitchen.

Pod stammered out some thanks and Margaery turned to shout, “Loras is bringing a fresh keg out to the garage!” The crowd whooped again and began to disperse, and Pod gratefully slipped out the door Margaery had pointed him toward, his cheeks still painfully red – and slammed right into a startled Sansa, who had been reaching for the door handle just as he pushed through it. His beer sloshed out of the cup and all down the front of her sweater; she shrieked and jumped back, but not in time to avoid being completely soaked.

“Gods! Sorry! I’m sorry!” Pod exclaimed, jerking back a step and sloshing the remainder of his beer over his own shirt.

Sansa just laughed and shook her head. “Don’t worry about it, Pod. Shit, that’s cold. Um. I need to change.”

“I have a spare sweater. In my car. If you want it. The sweater, I mean,” Pod offered, face hot and vaguely wishing he was dead.

She grinned gratefully at him. “That would be amazing. Meet me at the upstairs bathroom in five minutes.”

“Okay,” Pod nodded, turning and pushing back into the kitchen, keeping his head down and sneaking through the now-thinning crowd as they dispersed to locate the beer pong, pool, and myriad of other amusements the Tyrells had scattered around their home. He jogged to his car, retrieved the hoodie, gave it a desperate sniff, decided it smelled acceptable, and hustled back in, making his way up the stairs and to the bathroom to see Sansa leaning beside the door, holding the front of her beer-soaked shirt away from her body. She brightened when she saw him.

“There’s someone in there.” She paused, cocked her head to the side and listened for a moment. “There may be more than one someone in there.” She motioned Pod closer, but before he could turn his ear to the door, a poorly-muffled moan floated out from behind it and Pod froze, staring at Sansa as his cheeks, which had just barely lost their flush from the few seconds outside, began to redden again.

Sansa pressed a hand to her mouth to cover her laugh, but her shoulders shook a bit as she ducked her head. “It’s fine. I’ll use Margaery’s room,” she whispered through a giggle. “C’mon.” She grabbed his arm and dragged him down the hall and through a door, which she closed behind them. “Turn around,” she commanded, grabbing the sweater from his hand and making a spinning motion with the index finger of her free hand.

Pod obeyed quickly, turning to face the door. After a few seconds, she spoke again. “Okay. You’re good. You can turn around.”

He turned slowly to see Sansa standing there, looking slightly abashed in his oversized red and gold Lions hoodie. She adjusted it self-consciously and threatened, only half-joking, “I swear, if Arya or anyone else from my family ever finds out I wore this hoodie, I’ll be coming after you, Pod.”

“Your secret’s safe. With me, I mean,” he nodded vigorously. “But I don’t know if I can say the same for everyone out there.” He jerked his chin toward the door.

She sighed. “I suppose you’re right. I can’t be seen in this. Well, I guess you’ll just have to keep me company tonight, since you’re the only one I trust not to talk.” She moved over to the balcony door and motioned him over, sliding it open and stepping out onto the balcony. As he watched, she hoisted herself up onto the balcony railing just adjacent to the wall of the house, then turned and reached up, giving  a small hop and lifting herself up onto the eaves of the roof just above her head. “C’mon then,” she settled into place with her feet dangling over the edge of the roof. “Come sit with me.”

“Is – should you – are we allowed to be up there?” Pod asked, leaning over the railing to look dubiously up at her. “On the roof, I mean.”

Sansa nodded and grinned down at him. “Marg and I sit up here for hours and talk when I’m over here. It’s definitely allowed.”

After a moment’s brief hesitation, Pod nodded almost decisively and copied Sansa’s path up to the roof to sit beside her. “Quiet out here,” he noted. “I mean. You can hear the music still. But it’s kinda… far. Sounds far, I mean.”

Sansa nodded her agreement, leaning back on her elbows and staring up at the sky. “I love it up here. When Arya and I get a new apartment next year, I’m gonna make sure we have a roof or a balcony or something like this.”

“My building has a roof,” Pod replied. Sansa cocked her head at him and raised an inquisitive eyebrow, and Pod hastened to clarify, “Roof access, I mean. People grow plants and barbecue up there. Sometimes.” _Stupid._ She knew what he meant. Sometimes Pod just wanted to kick himself.

The smile on her face widened a bit, and she nodded. “I’d love to have a rooftop garden. I’d settle for some south-facing windows, though. I love plants. I’ve got a little succulent in my apartment right now, but I’d like to have some flowers or something to brighten up the place. I just don’t get much sunlight from my little tiny windows.”

“My apartment has pretty big ones. Windows, I mean. It’s nice, makes it nice and bright during the day,” Pod leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, and turned slightly toward Sansa as he spoke.

“That sounds great,” Sansa sighed. “You should let me know if any places open up in your building. Arya and I are gonna get an apartment together next year. Mum wanted her to live on campus this year, and I was rooming with my friend Jeyne, until she ran off and got married. I had to move to a studio halfway through the semester to afford rent.”

“I will,” Pod nodded. “Let you know if there’s an apartment, I mean. “

“Thanks,” Sansa beamed. “So what do you do for fun, Pod? You take classes, you play football, you work for the Lannisters, you tutor stupid girls who need help with their Poli Sci homework. When do you do fun things?”

Pod frowned. “I don’t know what you mean about stupid girls. You’re the only girl I help with her schoolwork, and you’re not stupid.” He could already feel the heat creeping up through his face as he spoke, so he faced resolutely forward as he waited for Sansa’s response.

“Aw, Podrick. You’re sweet.” He couldn’t see her face, but she nudged his knee with her own and he turned slowly to look at her and was nearly knocked off the roof by how radiant her smile actually was when she turned it on full-force.

He smiled shyly back, and she prodded, “But seriously. What do you do outside of school and work, Pod?”

Pod thought for a moment, then shrugged. “I’m at a party right now. And I like what I do. I like working for Tyrion and Brienne, I like football, I like tut – I mean, I like helping you. With your homework. I watch sports, when I can. When I have time, I mean.”

“Do you ever go to games?” Sansa sat up to hear him better. “Lions games, or Thunder, now that you’re living here?”

He shook his head. “Tickets are expensive, we couldn’t afford Lions ones. Growing up, I mean. And now most of my money goes to school, or rent. Not much left over.”

He was mumbling by the end, and Sansa pursed her lips, but ultimately only hesitated for a moment before she replied, “You’re right there, tickets are ridiculously overpriced. I forget about that sometimes, I get free tickets to Wolves games and I haven’t gone to any others in years, since Joffrey – “ she paused, seemingly regretting bringing up the name, then shook her head, cleared her throat, and continued quickly, “Since my ex and I broke up. Do you like other sports besides football, or just – oh, hold on, my phone’s ringing – ” She reached into her pocket and pulled out her phone, glancing quickly at the caller ID.

“Sorry,“ she shrugged. “It’s Arya. I need to take this. One sec.” She rolled her eyes good-naturedly and held the phone up to her ear. “What did I tell you about calling me drunk at two in the morn –“ Even from a yard away Pod could hear Arya’s voice, loud and fast on the other end; as she listened, Sansa’s smile faded and her brows creased at whatever her sister was saying. “What? Wait. Slow down. What happened?

“What? He can’t – his contract – Ramsay, too? Why would Roose –“ She paused as Arya rattled off an answer to whatever she’d asked. “Seven save us. It’s real, then? Gods. Mum’s going to be furious. And so close to the end of the season. We’ll have to sign someone – I don’t suppose Jon could –“ Another pause. “No, of course, you’re right. Shit. Of course, I’ll call Mum in the morning. We’ll figure it out. Yes, in the morning. What do you suggest we do now at midnight on a Sunday, Arya? Mum will have a statement to put out and we’ll sign another backup by Monday. It should be a veteran, but worst case scenario we can pull that Umber boy off the practice squad. As long as Robb doesn’t get hurt we won’t even need him anyways.”

There was a brief pause, and then she nodded. “Yeah. Love you too. Mwah.” She hung up the phone and dropped her head to her knees, letting out a feral growl and heaving a heavy sigh.

Pod frowned at her, but waited for her to lift her head before asking, “Everything okay?”

She shrugged. “Our GM just traded our backup quarterback and one of our best defensive ends to the Krakens. He says they asked for the trade, that they were trouble in the locker room, but, I mean, he barely got anything back for them. Draft picks. Nothing that helps us now, halfway through the season, with big holes on the D-line and at backup QB. Arya’s furious, Mum has to be beside herself. She told Roose not to sign Theon last year, but Robb insisted, said he liked having Theon to hold the clipboard for him. And now we’ve just lost him and Ramsay Bolton both. Fucking assholes.”

“Your GM did that?” Pod’s brows furrowed. “Roose Bolton? He’s… I thought he was good? At his job, I mean.”

“He was!” Sansa exclaimed, face flushing with anger. “He’s done really well for us in the past, but since Dad died, he’s kind of taken over and sometimes I wonder if he’s – I mean, he makes moves that don’t make any sense to me. Mum trusts him, but sometimes I think it’d be better if we found someone new.”

“Maybe you should. Find someone new, I mean,” Pod pursed his lips.

“I would. But Mum and Robb don’t listen to me or Arya about the team. Mum says I should focus on school, and Robb says a journalism degree won’t help with running a sports team or a business. Like I didn’t grow up around this stuff, like I don’t have football in my fucking veins like the rest of them.” She shook her head, disgusted, and dropped her chin to her knees again.

A long silence passed, and then she heaved another sigh and turned to look at Pod, her cheek resting atop her knees. “Sorry. Um. I forgot what we were talking about. What’s your major, Pod?”

“Business. With a double minor in Poli Sci and Economics. Political Science, I mean.”

Sansa’s eyebrows shot up. “Wow. That’s… impressive. Econ and Poli Sci are… a bit out of my wheelhouse. I mean, I’m better on Politics. Dreadful at Econ. Praise the Seven I’ll never have to take it. I’m a Business minor, too. Odd that we haven’t had more courses together.”

“We had one,” Pod replied quickly, without thinking. “Global Marketing. With Petyr Baelish.”

Sansa stared at him, brows furrowed, for a moment, but then her jaw dropped and she nodded eagerly. “Gods, yes! With Petyr! I remember! You always sat in the back of the room.”

Pod shrugged. “I like the back.”

Sansa laughed. “I can’t believe I didn’t recognize you before. I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Pod shook his head. “Sorry, I mean. You were always sitting with Margaery. Tyrell.”

“Yes, she’s an actual Marketing major, she’s brilliant at it. Quite a good study buddy to have.”

“I’ll bet,” Pod replied.

Sansa laid back, stretching out her long legs and letting them hang over the edge of the roof, gazing up at the stars with her hair all splayed out beneath her head, glowing just slightly in the moonlight. She glanced at her companion and raised her eyebrows at him. “You don’t really have to stay out here with me all night, Pod. I’m sure you’ve got friends you want to hang out with.”

Pod laid back and rolled his head to face her. “I ruined your shirt, the least I can do is keep you company while it dries. Besides, I see my friends every day. At practice, I mean. I’m not missing anything, and if they can’t find me I won’t have to be their designated driver. Like always.”

Sansa stared at him for a moment before her entire face split open and she began to laugh, sliding her hand through her hair and resting it behind her neck. “Well fair enough, then. By all means, stick with me, then.”

Pod smiled, then paused, a mildly guilty expression crossing his face. “I don’t mind being the designated driver, really. For my friends, I mean. Someone has to get them home safe.”

Sansa rolled her eyes good-naturedly and reached over to nudge him with her elbow. “I never thought otherwise, Pod. You’re just that kind of guy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another long one, sorry y'all. I really don't plan on these chapters being this long. It just kinda happens. Maybe next time will be a bit shorter. Anyhow, please leave comments, they mean alot! Thanks for reading!


	3. Chapter 3

Sansa hunched down into her jacket and tightened her grasp on her umbrella as she hustled through the rain that had been sheeting down over King’s Landing for the past three days. It had cleared up briefly last night and early this morning, but by the time Sansa was leaving her first class it had already gone right back to pouring buckets. She reached the steps of her apartment and hurried upstairs, grateful for the cover of the walkway eaves to give her some cover from the wind and driving rain as she reached for her keys.

She let herself in and set her umbrella aside, shrugging out of her coat and scarf and tossing them over the back of one of the kitchen chairs as she bustled around the kitchen, pouring coffee beans into the grinder and holding the button down with one hand as she rummaged through the drawer for a filter with her other hand. Pod would be here in a few minutes to go over the last draft of her final paper with her, and she wanted to have the coffee at least brewing by the time he got there.

He knocked on the door just as she pressed the button on the coffee maker, and she allowed herself a brief, triumphant grin before moving to the door to pull it open – and gasping in horror. “Gods, Pod. What are you doing outside in this weather without an umbrella – or a jacket, for that matter?” She ushered a dripping Pod inside and shut the door behind him, staring in disbelief at his sodden grey t-shirt and jeans.

He started to answer, stopped to sneeze, rubbed his nose, and tried again, “It wasn’t like this when I left this morning. It wasn’t raining, I mean. I left early to go to the gym, and when I got done – “ a throaty cough cut his sentence short before he resumed, “It was raining again and I didn’t have anything warmer with me. In my car. And I didn’t have time to go back home. Before class, I mean.”

“Seven hells. Surely you could be a bit late to one class for your health,” Sansa shook her head and retrieved a towel from below the sink, wrapping it around Pod’s shoulders and draping another over his head to sop up some of the water trailing from his hair down his face and neck in rivulets.

Pod shrugged and sneezed again in lieu of a real response. Sansa sighed and scrubbed at his head through the towel. “Wait here, and get out of those wet clothes. I think I’ve got some dry things you can wear.”

She disappeared down the hall and returned a few minutes later and passed Pod the Lions hoodie she’d borrowed from him. “Here, this is yours. I washed it for you, but now I feel like a real arsehole for not getting it back to you sooner.” 

“No, it’s fine,” Pod insisted, pulling the towels off and handing them back to Sansa. “It wouldn’t have done me much good anyways. I mean, it would have just gotten soaked too.”

Sansa scowled at him and moved out of the room again. Pod gratefully shed his wet t-shirt and dropped it to the floor, reaching for the hoodie just as Sansa returned. Her eyes flickered to his bare chest and back up to his face again, a soft pink spreading across her cheeks as she passed him a pair of men’s sweatpants. “Sorry. Um. These are Robb’s, but they might fit you. Maybe not perfectly, but they’re dry, at least. Give me your wet clothes when you’re done and I’ll hang them by the radiator to dry.”

Pod shrugged into his hoodie and crumpled his shirt in his hand. “If you just bring me a bag, I can take them home and wash them.” As he tugged at the neck of the sweatshirt, he noticed a faint floral scent, fresh and sweet like peaches and spring. _Sansa_ , his brain flickered, supplying the information as though he wasn’t fully aware of the fact that his Lions hoodie now smelled like Sansa. Bloody hell, that wouldn’t be distracting at all.

He coughed again, and Sansa shook her head, reaching down to snatch the shirt out of his hand. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’ll hang this up for you. There’s coffee when you’re all changed.” She backed out of the bathroom, pulling the door shut after her.

Pod watched her go, then obediently shucked his wet shoes, socks, and pants and pulled the sweats on, relishing the warmth and comfort of just not being sopping wet. He gathered up all the wet things and folded them neatly, then stepped out of the bathroom and around the corner to see Sansa pouring two mugs of coffee. She turned and grinned at him, then handed him a mug and swiped the clothes from his hand. “Oh good, the pants do fit. That’s good. Okay. You drink this and get warm and I’ll hang these up,” she held up his clothes and motioned to a drying rack she’d set up in front of the radiator, from which his shirt was already hanging. “They’ll be dry by the time you leave.”

“Thank you,” Pod’s head was swimming, but he managed a small smile and added, “You don’t have to do all this. Really.”

“Please, you’re here because I asked you to help me, the least I can do is dry your clothes for you so you don’t get sick – “ Pod let out a wracking cough and Sansa let out her breath with a whoosh, “Although it might be too late for that.” She pursed her lips and flashed him a worried look. “You could’ve canceled, you know. Gone home and gotten warm instead of coming here.”

“I’m fine,” Pod shook his head. “The paper’s due at the end of the week, I didn’t want to miss our last session before you’ve got to turn it in,” he reached for his messenger bag and retrieved a packet of pages from inside it. “I think it’s almost there. I made some notes.”

He held it out to Sansa, who took it and tossed it onto the table. “You’re amazing, Pod. Thank you so much. You can sit,” she motioned to the couch in the living room. “I’ll be right there.”

Pod sunk onto the couch and took a long, grateful gulp of the hot coffee as Sansa hung the rest of his clothes on the rack and retrieved the paper from the table, curling up on the other end of the couch and flipping through the pages to see where Pod had left marks and notes. At one point, Sansa leaned over and asked, “What does this say?”

Pod squinted at the paper, straining to make sense of the words he’d written the night before and becoming acutely aware of a fierce, hazy pounding in his head. He shivered; he was cold again.

Sansa felt each second tick by as she watched Pod struggle to focus, then bit back a concerned frown and shook her head. “Never mind. I think I’ve got it.” She leaned back again, taking the paper with her, and browsed through the rest of the paper, taking her time and sneaking glances at the man hunched beside her. After ten or fifteen minutes had passed, she saw his eyelids start to droop and waited another couple of minutes before easing off the couch and pulling the coffee mug from his limp hands. He stirred slightly, but his eyes didn’t open. She placed a gentle hand on his forehead and nearly snatched it away immediately at the head that was radiating from his skin.

She shook her head, a soft smile creeping across her face as she slowly pulled the fleece blanket off the back of the couch and draped it over Pod’s sleeping form, then crept to the kitchen table and opened her laptop, tucking the paper under one side of the keyboard and setting to work making revisions to her paper.

 

* * *

 

 

Pod started awake, hair plastered to his face with sweat, vision slightly blurred and heart pounding. He looked around wildly, befuddled at his unfamiliar surroundings. It was grey outside, impossible to tell the time. Not night time, he didn’t think. Maybe not too terribly late. Rain still pattered on the roof and windows. He glanced back down; he was stretched out on a couch – Sansa’s couch. He was half-wrapped in a blanket and had a pillow beneath his head, a pillow he was sure hadn’t been there when he’d sat down. He must’ve been out for awhile. Shit.

Pod sat up slowly and scrubbed at his eyes, squinting at the clock and reaching up to smooth his hair as the numbers came into focus – 8:27. Not too terribly late, at least. He pushed aside the blanket that had been covering him and carefully lifted himself to his feet. He swayed slightly, pushed his hair out of his face, stretched.

A loud cough pushed past his lips and he buried his face in his elbow, trying to muffle the sound.

“Oh, hi! How are you feeling?” Pod started, turned to the hallway, where Sansa was standing, looking remarkably put-together for someone who was in for the evening. Something niggled at the back of his mind, but he couldn’t quite focus in on whatever it was.

“Okay. I feel okay. Sorry. For falling asleep. Sorry. I’ll go home now.”

Sansa frowned as he coughed again. “You just woke up. At least have a cup of coffee before you go. I’m headed out in a couple of minutes, but you can stay as long as you like.”

Pod’s eyebrows furrowed and he asked, “Where are you going?”

She smiled slightly, bemused. “Class. I’m not sick, I haven’t got an excuse to stay in today.”

The niggling thing in Pod’s mind suddenly clicked into place and his eyes widened in horror. “Today – Class? Did – is it – was I here all night? Sleeping?”

“Yes,” she nodded. “And gods know you needed it. You looked positively underwater last night. You feel better now, though?” She reached out and placed a cool hand on his forehead. “You still feel hot. You need rest and soup, Pod.”

Pod felt positively nauseous. “Sorry. I’m so sorry. I can’t believe – you could have woken me up – “

“Not bloody likely,” Sansa shook her head. “Like I said, you needed it.”

“Your paper, we didn’t – “

“Your notes were really helpful,” Sansa cut him off again. “I’ve already changed most of what you said to work on, I think it’s nearly ready to turn in.” She moved toward the door and reached for her yellow rain coat, talking as she pulled it on. “I’ve got to go, but like I said, stay as long as you like. You can take a shower if you want, there’s clean towels and your clothes from yesterday are all dry. They’re in that box on the table, be sure and take that with you whenever you leave. There’s coffee in the pot,” she motioned to the kitchen counter. “Text me when you get home so I know you’re safe, and don’t drive if you feel too feverish. You’re welcome to stay, please make yourself at home – in fact, I’d much rather you stay another night than drive with a high fever and get into an accident.”

She grabbed her school bag and swung it onto her shoulder, then plucked her keys from a bowl beside the door and turned to smile at Pod. “Really. Truly. You’ve got nothing to feel bad about or apologize for, Pod. I still can’t believe you were willing to come over when you were feeling so terrible just to help me with my paper. You’re an absolute darling. Don’t forget to take the box home with you if you leave before I get back.” Her grin widened just slightly, and she blew him a quick kiss before pulling the door open and disappearing outside, the sound of the rain intensifying, then becoming muted again as she shut the door behind her.

Pod stared at the door for maybe a full minute, swaying a bit on his feet before he ran a hand through his hair and moved to retrieve the box with his clothes in it. It was a somewhat sizeable box, and Pod was surprised to see that his clothes had simply been set atop the box, with an envelope bearing Pod’s name set atop the whole thing. He opened the envelope and pulled out the note inside bearing Sansa’s loopy scrawl.

_My uncle swears the secret to getting better quickly is a shot of vodka in a bottle of orange juice and locking yourself away to sleep for a day or two. Mum says soup is the key. I prefer tea and good old-fashioned Western medicine. You can take your pick, or maybe try them all and see what works. (Not the cough syrup and alcohol at the same time, obviously.) In any case, take the day, curl up in bed, watch a movie, and get plenty of fluids and rest. I hope you feel better soon. Thanks for all your help, Pod._

_Sansa xx_

Inside the box, there was a thermos with a sticky note marked ‘Soup,’ half a dozen tea bags, a package of soup crackers, a bottle of cough syrup, two travel-size bottles of vodka, and two individual-sized bottles of orange juice. Tucked into the side of the box was a DVD of “Night’s King,” a package of tissues, and a bag of cough drops.

The sick feeling in Pod’s stomach had moved into his chest, where his heart was flipping about wildly and making it a bit hard to catch his breath. It was unfathomable to him that he even knew someone like Sansa, much less that she’d made him a care package because he was sick. Still a bit dumbfounded, he poured himself a cup of coffee, then set about folding up the blanket and placing it neatly atop the pillow, pulling his shoes on, and washing the mug he’d used. Once he’d set it in the rack to dry, he felt awake enough to drive and picked up the box and made his way down to his car.

Pod drove home slowly, windshield wipers working furiously for the entirety of the drive. He staggered through the door of his apartment and carried the entire box into his kitchen, kicking off his shoes and tapping out a quick text to Sansa: _Home now. Going to have some soup and get to bed. So sorry for passing out on you. Thanks for everything, you’re too kind._

He tossed his phone aside and retrieved mug from his cabinet, filling it with soup from the thermos and eating it quickly before gulping down some cough syrup and tossing the leftover soup and orange juice into his refrigerator. He made his way into his bedroom and tumbled into bed, yanking the covers over himself and burying his face into his pillow. His phone buzzed and he reached out to read Sansa’s reply: _My pleasure :) Feel better xx_

Pod clicked the screen off and set the phone back down, drifting off immediately with half a smile still on his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!!


	4. Chapter 4

Pod shivered as he pushed the door to the Admin building open and was hit by a blast of cold air. It had finally started to feel like winter in King’s Landing – just in time for finals week. He was down to his last final and was subsisting almost entirely on coffee and fast food. He had to get some sleep and a real meal into him before the first playoff game of the season tomorrow. But first he had to hit the library to study for an hour before his Law and Economics final.

“Podrick! Pod!” Pod glanced up, mildly surprised at the sound of his name. He barely caught a glimpse of red hair and a beaming smile before a pair of slender arms had wrapped around him and Sansa’s voice was squealing into his ear, “Thank you! Thank you thank you! You’re the best, Pod, thank you so much.”

Rocking back and forth with the motion of Sansa’s hug, Pod frowned and asked, “Hi, Sansa. For what? Are you thanking me? Thank you for what, I m – “

“I got an A on my final paper!” Sansa danced in place a little, still squeezing Pod and rattling a paper behind his back. “So whatever you did, if you graded it, or talked to Professor Lannister or just for helping me as much as you did, thank you. You have no idea how much this means to me.”

She pulled back and smiled at Pod, taking in his startled and flushed face and giggling softly. A slow smile lit up Pod’s face as he finally caught up with what she was saying, and he stammered out a pleased, “Oh, well done! I mean, good job, Sansa. That’s amazing. Your paper. You did a great job on it, I’m not surprised Tyrion gave you a good grade. Professor Lannister, I mean. He always grades the final papers himself, so that’s a real ‘A’. That you got.”

Sansa laughed delightedly. “Well, I couldn’t have done it without you.” Before he could protest, she plowed forward, “Seriously, Pod. You saved my ass. And my grade. We have to celebrate. Let’s go get dinner tomorrow. My treat. Oh, _Seven_ , I aced this paper! You have no idea how happy I am right now, Pod. So. Dinner tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow?” Pod stuttered, “I – I can’t. Tomorrow, I mean. I have – I’ve got – there’s a game. Tomorrow. A football game, I mean. I have to play in it. I’m sorry.”

Sansa’s hand flew up to her mouth and she let out a horrified laugh. “Oh gods. I knew that, too. First playoff game. I’m going to that, I swear. Finals brain, and I was so excited I just forgot. Obviously you have to play in the game. Why are you apologizing? I can’t believe I forgot!” She shook her head and grinned sheepishly. “So, rain check on dinner, obviously. Can you go Sunday? Then we can celebrate my paper and your win at the same time.”

Pod nodded. “Sure. I can go Sunday. Don’t celebrate any wins yet, though. Coach says it’s bad luck.”

Sansa giggled. “Fair enough. Okay. I’ll see you tomorrow at the game; text me what time you want to have dinner Sunday and I’ll tell you where.” She leaned in for another hug. “Thank you again. For everything. And good luck tomorrow!” She gave him one last squeeze and skipped away, her paper still clutched tightly in her hand. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, y'all, for taking so long for such a quick update. It's the end of the semester, I gotta just get through the next couple weeks without dying and then I'll have some time to work on this. Many thanks to all y'all for reading and to anyone who leaves feedback, I appreciate you so much!!


	5. Chapter 5

“I love these pillows,” Margaery batted lightly at the tassels on the corners of the throw pillows on Sansa’s couch.

“Thank you, they were the only ones we could agree on. You know, for not caring about decorating at all, my sister is infuriatingly hard to please,” Sansa sighed, taking a sip of wine and sinking down onto the couch beside her. “So what happened with Joff?”

“Oh, you know him. He hasn’t changed since you dated him, he just got a little better at hiding what a fucking prick he is. I had enough,” Margaery shrugged, reaching for her own glass and downing half of its contents in one go.

“He didn’t…” Sansa’s brows furrowed as she looked at her friend appraisingly.

“Hit me? No, babes, I think your family taught him his lesson regarding that. And if he hadn’t learnt it with me, Willas and Loras would have made sure he got it this time round,” Margaery smiled reassuringly and reached out to squeeze Sansa’s thigh. “And my Nan. Imagine what Nan would do if Joff had tried anything like that.”

Sansa snorted. “Gods, I’d be terrified to find out.”

The apartment door swung open with a bang and Arya stomped in with an armload of books. “Twelve books I’ve just had to buy for this semester! _Twelve_! It’s lucky we’re rich or college would fucking bankrupt me.” She kicked the door shut behind her and trudged toward her room.

“Hi, Arya!” Margaery chirped brightly, chuckling as she exchanged glances with Sansa. “Why are you buying books two weeks before classes start?”

“Hullo Marg, heard you dumped the Dickhead, well done you!” Arya called from out of sight. Margaery laughed as Arya continued, “Mum made me promise I’d stay on top of school if I moved out of the dorm early, so I’m appeasing her by getting my books disgustingly ahead of time, like a proper swot.” There was a thump – presumably the books being dropped onto her bed, and then she reappeared and motioned about with a grandiose motion. “D’you like the new place?”

“It’s very nice,” Margaery agreed. “Beautifully decorated, and I can’t believe you found a two-bedroom like this so close to campus.”

“ _Found_ ,” Arya snorted, rolling her eyes. “Apparently Sansa makes friends who can get her through hard classes and find her ever-so-perfect places to live with reasonable rent, and I can’t even get my friends to come with me and help carry dozens of books from my car to  my apartment.”

“ _A_ dozen,” Sansa corrected, rolling her eyes.

“Who do you know who tips you off about apartments?” Margaery wanted to know.

“Podrick Payne,” Arya singsonged, heading back to her room. “Our new neighbor, and Sansa’s guardian angel, apparently.”

“New neighbor?” Margaery’s eyebrows shot up and she turned to look at Sansa appraisingly. “Podrick Payne is tipping you off about apartments in his building?”

“Well I asked him to,” Sansa shrugged, staring rather intently at her wine as she swirled it around in her glass. “He said his building had decent windows and roof access, so I told him that if any vacancies came up he should let me know, and one came up over break. We were going to wait to get a place until Fall, but this one was available right away, so we came back early to sign for it, and he and Gendry helped us move our things. It worked out really well.”

“I thought your Mum wanted Arya to live on campus for the first year,” Margaery frowned, then asked, “So where does Pod live?”

“She did, but we brought her round,” Sansa answered.

“Three doors down!” Arya called from her room.  “Pod’s at the end of the hall!”

“Well that must be nice, having a… friend? In the building.”

“It is, Pod’s been very sweet,” Sansa felt her cheeks beginning to flush, but she reminded herself it was just from the wine that she’d only had a couple sips of and pursed her lips tightly together. Margaery’s face was taking on an entirely too-pleased expression that Sansa didn’t care for, and she raised a hand to point at her friend. “I don’t know what that look is about, but whatever’s going on in your head needs to stop immediately.”

“Oh! Rude,” Margaery pretended to sulk for a moment, then glanced up with a calculating look in her eye and, in her most innocent voice mentioned, “Then I suppose you don’t want to know what I’ve heard about Pod from the other girls on the squad?”

“Can’t imagine why we would,” Sansa replied, just as Arya reappeared from her room and piped up, “Of course we do!” Sansa turned to shoot her sister a fierce look, but Arya just grinned and came to lean over the back of the couch as Margaery began to speak.

“Well,” Margaery raised her eyebrows suggestively. “Word is your dear friend Podrick is…” she cleared her throat, “Well, packing. And also one hell of a good shag.”

Arya’s jaw dropped, and she glanced over just in time to see Sansa’s face flush an alarming shade of red. “What – so it’s true then?”

Sansa shook her head emphatically. “Stop. Both of you. Stop it. For the sake of the Seven and all things holy. Why are we even talking about this?”

Arya nodded. “No, I’ve heard that, too. Gendry said that one of his exes actually cried when she talked about how good he is in bed.”

Sansa’s hand lifted to delicately squeeze at the bridge of her nose, eyes squeezed shut in a face very near the same color of her hair, if not a smidge darker. “We are not talking about this.”

Margaery leaned forward conspiratorially. “I heard the same thing, Arya. Remember Ros, from cheer? She graduated my sophomore year. She told me he slept with Kayla – remember Kayla? Gods, she was such a whore. But she went out with him for like, a couple of months and was completely devastated when he broke up with her. She’s the one who cried. Marei and Genna went out with him, too. They said the same thing, he’s amazing in bed.”

“Is it just that he’s… well-endowed, or is he actually like, exceedingly skilled at sex?” Arya wondered aloud.

Sansa’s mouth was growing thinner and more pinched by the second, but Margaery’s mouth twisted up into her signature half-smirk as she answered, “More the second than the first, the way I hear it. Ros said she got all the details from the girls. Like, he’s big, but it’s more what he does that makes him such a god.” She took a sip of her wine, still smirking.

Arya rocked back on her heels, eyebrows raised. “Huh. Well now I’m curious. How hard d’you reckon he’d be to seduce?”

Sansa made an extremely shrill, extremely horrified noise. “No. No no no no no no no. Arya, no. You are not sleeping with Pod. I won’t allow it. He’s my friend and you will not ruin him.”

Arya exchanged glances with Margaery, who sighed and shrugged. “Well, I suppose I could do it. It’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make. You know, for science.”

Arya let out a bark of laughter. “Especially if he’s as good as they say.”

“Arya!” Margaery smacked her lightly on the arm. “I wouldn’t be doing it for me! It would be for research!”

“Right, because you would in no way appreciate an amazing shag,” Arya rolled her eyes. “You’d just suffer through all the orgasms and give us back an entirely impartial report for our education and edification.”

Sansa’s face was now entirely hidden behind her hands, as Margaery squealed indignantly at Arya’s words. “Come on, Arya. Let it go. Sansa’s uncomfortable – ”

“Thank you, Marg – “ Sansa began.

“ – And jealous. She doesn’t want anyone sleeping with Pod who’s not her.”

Sansa’s hands dropped away from her face in a flash and she leveled a glare at Margaery that would flatten a small city. “Do. Not. Try to make this about that. Pod is my _friend_.”

“Sure he is,” Margaery smirked. “Your friend. Who finds you apartments in his building and tutors you for free. You know, just like Gendry is Arya’s _friend_.”

Arya’s jaw dropped. “Wait. How is this now about me? Ask Sansa if the apartment was the only thing she and Pod texted about over the break. Spoiler alert: it wasn’t. They talked like, every day!”

“Which you and Gendry also do!” Sansa snapped back.

Arya scowled at her sister. “Yeah, but that’s not the same, because Gendry actually is my friend, and Sansa and Pod – “

“Are definitely more ‘just friends’ than you and Gendry are,” Sansa cut her sister off, taking a sip of her wine and delicately lifting one eyebrow. “Do you honestly not see it? He’s absolutely smitten with you.”

“Whoa! Party foul!” Margaery called. “You can’t just out him like that, Sansa. Leave a little mystery in it.”

Sansa’s cheeks, already flushed from the wine, reddened further and she said primly, “Well, she’s being so thick about Gendry. I don’t know why she doesn’t just admit they’re head over heels for each other and just marry him already.”

Arya’s face wrinkled distastefully. “Ew. I’m never getting married. Especially not to Gendry. He’s the stupidest person I know. Although you two’re giving him a run for his money right now, I’ve gotta say.”

Margaery laughed. “Oh enough, you two. Sansa, you date Pod, and Arya, you date Gendry, and we’ll all finally have some peace. Seriously though, Sansa. You need to date a nice guy like Podrick. You never do.” She unfolded her legs and got up from the couch, moving into the kitchen to preemptively open a new bottle of wine.

“Well that’s not my fault! I always think they’re nice and then they aren’t,” Sansa pouted, downing the rest of her glass and reaching for the already-open bottle.

“No, you think they’re hot and then they turn out to be dicks,” Arya rolled her eyes. “You should date someone who’s a little uglier and way less of a dick.”

“Arya, be nice!  Don’t call Pod ugly!” Sansa protested, pouring herself another glass of wine.

“So you admit it, you think he’s hot!” Arya crowed, yanking the bottle from Sansa’s hand and taking a triumphant swig. Sansa dropped her head dramatically, letting her hair swing down over her face, and groaned in frustration.

“I mean, it’s not that Pod isn’t hot,” Margaery mused, returning to the living room with a second bottle of wine and a third glass. She plucked the bottle from Arya’s hand and poured the remainder of it into the glass, then handed the glass to Arya and set the new bottle on the table, setting the empty bottle aside and folding herself back into her spot on the couch. “He just has a sweet, round face. But he keeps in shape, he has to. Coach Lannister makes sure everyone on the team is well fit. Even Joff, that skinny little weasel. He looked fine shirtless, and he hasn’t got the physique to carry any real muscle.”

Sansa snorted, replying with a slight tinge of contempt, “Must have been after we broke up then, he never looked anything but skinny as a reed to me.”

Margaery laughed. “I mean, he’s no Gendry,” she turned to smirk at Arya, waggling her eyebrows teasingly, “But he wasn’t offensive to look at, or anything. But going back to Pod, I really do think he’s kind of hot. ”

Sansa had slumped over in her seat, burying her face against the arm of the couch. “Can we talk about something else? Anything else? I don’t wanna think about Pod that way, I like being friends with him.” She raised her head slightly. “Go back to Arya and Gendry, I think we can all at least agree that Gendry is well fit.”

“There is no Arya and Gendry, but yes, my best friend Gendry is properly good-looking, and I have no problem admitting that, so if he ever finds a girl who’s cool enough to date him, she’ll be very lucky indeed,” Arya spoke up quickly, then turned to Margaery, “But not until football season is completely over, he’s got to focus on winning the championship before he can think about dating anyone.”

“And you’ve decided that, have you?” Sansa grinned, exchanging looks with Margaery.

“He’s decided it and told me,” Arya jutted her chin out at her sister, glaring defiantly.

“Right,” Sansa nodded.

“Of course,” Margaery winked.

Arya glanced between the two of them. “Shut up, both of you. Marg, tell us who you’ve got your sights on, now you’ve dumped the tosspot.”

“What?” Margaery poured herself more wine and leaned back. “Got my sights on? You make me seem like a real schemer, dearest little sister. I’m only just newly single, I haven’t even had time to look around yet.”

“Mmhmm,” Sansa and Arya hummed skeptically and in unison, and the girls all dissolved into laughter as Margaery rolled her eyes and lifted her glass to her pursed lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Any and all feedback is appreciated!


	6. Chapter 6

Sansa dropped her bag to the floor and perched on the stool closest to the instructor’s table, hooking the heels of her boots on the lower cross bar and shedding her jacket to drape it across the stool beside her. She pulled out a notebook and pen and set them in front of her on the long table that ran perpendicular to the front of the lab. She checked her phone as she waited for class to start, glancing up occasionally to see the other students filing into the room. The second or third time she looked up, she caught a pair of wide brown eyes staring back at her and found herself beaming before she’d even fully realized who it was. “Hi, Pod!”

Podrick was bundled up in a heavy wool coat, scarf, and knitted beanie; Sansa could only assume he had mittens shoved into his pockets and couldn’t stop the half-giggle that slipped out of her lips. It was never more apparent to her how very Northern she still was than during the forty-degree winters in King’s Landing that had the native Southerners all wrapped up under more layers than a wedding cake while she and Arya traipsed around in light sweater dresses and unlined leggings - or, in Arya’s case, leather jackets and jeans.

Pod shuffled his feet and flushed as a shy smile crept across his face. “Hi. Sansa. Are you in this class? I mean. Of course you are. You’re here.” He shook his head. “Sorry.”

She giggled outright and swept up her jacket from the seat next to her. “You wanna sit here?” He paused, and she rushed to add, “You don’t have to, if you have friends you’d rather sit with or something. But you can if you want.”

He gave a little shake of his head and moved to the seat, dumping his backpack unceremoniously to the floor. “I will. I don’t have anyone else to sit with. It’s just. Kinda close to the front. Of the room.” He leaned down, half-hanging off his seat and grabbing onto the edge of the table with one hand as he rummaged through his pack for a pen and paper. He glanced up to see Sansa grinning down at him and shifted a bit in his seat before reaching up to set the pen and notebook carefully on the table in front of him, the flush deepening in his cheeks. “I- I usually sit in the b-back. Of – of the room,” he explained, voice soft and a bit unsure.

Sansa cleared her throat and reached up to tuck her hair behind her ear. “Um. We can sit in the back, if you want. I just have a harder time concentrating in the back, is all. And I suck at science, so I figured it’d be good to sit near the front. Get help if I need it.”

“No, this is fine,” Pod hastened to assure her. “I suck at chemistry, too. So it’s probably better if I sit in the front, too.”

Another smile flashed across Sansa’s face, and she twirled her pen between her fingers. “Well, thanks. It’ll be nice to have someone to sit with.”

He jerked his chin forward in what was likely supposed to be a nod. “Yeah.”

Just then the door swung open and Professor Qyburn slithered through the doors, a binder resting loosely in one hand and a water bottle hanging from the other. He set his water down, reached into the folder, and handed Sansa a stack of papers. “Pass those down, will you dear?”

Sansa took a syllabus from the top of the pile and passed the rest to Pod, who did the same. Sansa paged through the syllabus, her shoulders drooping a bit while she ran her finger down the schedule, examining the assignments and selected topics. As Qyburn moved to the front of the room and began speaking, she scribbled something in the margin of her syllabus and slid it toward Pod, who leaned forward tentatively and read her in her loopy scrawl, _Study Buddies?_

She glanced back at him over her shoulder, and he gave a shy smile and flashed a thumbs-up in her direction; she beamed at him and turned back to the professor, and Pod sucked in a deep breath, gave his head a little shake and turned his attention back to Qyburn, eyes unfocused and his pen tapping out an erratic rhythm on his knee.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love to each and every one of you for reading! Thank you and please please don't hesitate to let me know what you think!


	7. Chapter 7

Sansa and Arya stood in the stands, watching dispassionately as Joffrey Baratheon limped off the field with two and a half minutes left in the Championship game. “He’s fine,” Arya scowled. “Can’t believe he’s gone and flopped just so he doesn’t have to take any more hits from that Corner.”

“Merrell Florent’s a top talent, if Joff keeps getting matched up against him it’ll kill his stat line in the biggest game of the season,” Sansa countered. “That’s why he’s going out, he doesn’t want to hurt his draft chances.”

Arya snorted. “He’ll go to the Lions if the Thunder doesn’t take him, the only question is whether even his own grandfather would be fool enough to draft him before the fifth round.”

“He’s not. I wish he would, but Tywin Lannister won’t waste a pick on a mediocre receiver, even if it is his grandson. I’d be surprised to see him go before the sixth,” Sansa frowned as the teams lined up again in the punt formation. Pod snagged the long snap and booted the ball a good sixty yards down the field, pinning Dragonstone’s returner back at his own six-yard-line.

Arya let out a low whistle. “Your friend Podrick, however, is excellent and I hope Mum signs him so we don’t end up stuck with Larence Snow for another year – ” She broke off and whooped excitedly as Russell Merryweather spun out of the grasp of Dragonstone’s Left Tackle and logged his second sack of the night for a loss of six yards on second down.

“He’s not declaring for the draft,” Sansa shook her head, clapping. “He’s starting Graduate School in the fall, between scholarships and the assistantship they offered him and whatever other strings Tyrion Lannister’s pulling to get to keep him around he’ll basically be getting a free MBA and then once he’s finished with that, Mum can hire him to run the front office for her, if she likes,” she finished primly and reached up to twist a curl out of her face and tuck it behind her ear.

“Fine by me, if it gets Roose Bolton the fuck out of the North,” Arya shrugged, raising her hands to add her voice to the crowd’s as Dragonstone lined up on 3rd and 11, their last attempt to run valuable time off the clock and stop the Kingsguard from making up the six-point difference that would send them home as champions. They decided to run, and Arya’s friend Hot Pie made the tackle well short of the first down. Dragonstone took their time lining up to punt, running the full forty seconds off the clock before kicking it deep. Devan Seaworth caught the ball and made a thirty-yard return, prompting cheers from the King’s Landing crowd as he was taken down near midfield with just under a minute and a half remaining.

“We can do this,” Sansa murmured, sounding unconvinced. “A touchdown wins it outright, and it isn’t as though Loras hasn’t led a game-winning drive before.”

“He hasn’t often,” Arya pursed her lips. “And with Joffrey out, the defense can focus on shutting down Seaworth and Botley. They can’t run it, they don’t have time.”

“It’ll be fine,” Sansa said still uncertain, as the teams lined up at the King’s Landing 45-yard-line. The first play was a screen pass to Big Walder Frey, who took it eight yards and was tackled still in-bounds. The clock continued to tick. Sansa’s lips twitched upwards as Walder jogged past Pod, who patted his shoulder and resumed pacing nervously along the sideline as Jaime Lannister signaled that he wanted to use the team’s final timeout with forty seconds left.

“Ow!” Sansa sucked in her breath, startled, as Arya reached over and grasped her arm tightly. “Gendry’s talking to Jaime. He’s got that face. He’s pitching something.” Coach Lannister listened intently as Gendry spoke with a look of intense, almost pained concentration on his face, then paused for a long moment, and finally, nodded once.

“Trick play?” Sansa reached up to grasp Arya’s hand as Gendry turned to Loras Tyrell and pulled him in for a quick conference. Loras nodded and jogged onto the field to gather the team around him and tell them the play.

“Could be,” Arya sounded a bit breathless as the timeout ended and the teams jogged to the line of scrimmage. “Gendry’s always drawing up plays, I’ve been telling him to use them in games more often. Fuck. This is a big one, though.”

“They’re spread out, could just be a deep shot,” Sansa studied the formation intently, both girls chewing nervously on their lower lips.

Arya shook her head. “Could be, but did you see Gendry’s face? He wasn’t asking to call a normal play.”

“It’s second down, it’s not as if they’re desperate.”

“But then it won’t be expected. They’ll be watching for a trick on third or fourth down. Not now.”

Sansa’s gaze flickered to Pod, who was standing beside Gendry, both men tense and quiet as Little Walder Frey put his hand on the ball and snapped it to Loras, who turned, tossed it to Ned Dayne and took off running. Ned dropped back a few steps and cocked his arm back, then heaved the ball forward – perfectly in time with a shriek from Arya, a sharp gasp from Sansa, and a collective intake of breath from the rest of the crowd – into Loras’s outstretched arms thirty yards downfield. The stadium erupted in screams as Loras tucked the ball into the crook of his arm and sprinted for the endzone, diving across the goal line just as Merrell Florent made a diving tackle, smashing into Loras and slamming him to the ground. Sansa and Arya both screamed and began jumping wildly up and down, hugging each other as the referees signaled the touchdown to tie the game.

The teams lined up for the extra point, and Lancel Lannister kicked the ball – just barely – through the uprights to a chorus of nervously sucked in breaths to put the Kingsguard up by one with thirty seconds left in the game.

A kickoff and two marvelous tackles by Dickon Tarly and Hot Pie later, the game was over and Arya had broken away from Sansa’s side to push her way through the jubilant crowd and launch herself over the railing of the stands to run to Gendry’s side. Sansa, beaming madly, watched as her sister leaped at Gendry, who turned just in time to catch her and drop his head to crush his lips against hers. Sansa’s jaw dropped, but Arya didn’t even hesitate; she wrapped her arms around Gendry’s neck and deepened the kiss, both parties oblivious to everything else going on around them.

Sansa glanced around and locked eyes with Margaery down on the field in her cheer outfit, whose mouth was also agape as she motioned to Arya and waggled her eyebrows delightedly. Sansa grinned and shook her head as she made her way down to the front of the stands and leaned over the edge of the railing. Margaery shouted, “About fucking time!” and Sansa laughed and nodded her agreement, eyes scanning the massive crowd that had now gathered on the field to celebrate with the team.

Her eyes landed on Podrick, who had been celebrating with Devan and Lancel but looked up just as Sansa’s gaze crossed his path. He beamed at her and waved, and moved toward her, motioning for her to join them on the field. She hesitated for a moment, but then swung her leg over the railing and took his proffered hand, allowing him to support her as she dropped daintily to the ground. “Congratulations, Pod! That was incredible! I’m so proud of you!”

Pod stiffened in surprise as she threw her arms around him, but hugged her back after only a brief moment. “Sorry, I’m sweaty,” he mumbled as they broke apart, but Sansa just laughed and gave his arm a squeeze.

“You’ve absolutely nothing to apologize for, Pod. You’re a gods-damned champion,” she grinned, pushing her hair back behind her ear.

“Will you be at the Tyrells’ later? The party, I mean?” Pod asked.

“Absolutely,” Sansa nodded; the same unruly curl fell free of her ear and into her face, catching on her eyelashes. “I’ll see you there, and drinks are on me, alright? Well, on Marg. But you know what I mean.”

Pod chuckled. “Sounds great.” Impulsively, he reached out and twisted the satiny red strand away from her eyes and back out of her face again. Heat flooded his face as he realized what he’d done, and he cleared his throat and stammered, “See you there. At the Tyrells’, I mean. Party.”

He turned quickly on his heel and allowed Hot Pie to yank him away back into the crowd, leaving Sansa to stare after him, slightly stunned and with her stomach flipping about wildly as though it were a balloon with all the air suddenly let out of it. She started as Arya appeared and grabbed her arm, then opened her mouth to speak and was immediately silenced. “Shut up. Gendry and I are going for drinks,” Arya flashed her a stern glare. “Don’t wait up for me. Not. A word.” She held up a warning finger, then kissed Sansa on the cheek and disappeared again, leaving her to Margaery, who had apparently materialized at the same time as Arya and was already mid-sentence about where they needed to stop to pick up last-minute drinks for the party on the way back to her house.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading!! Every single one of you. Rockstars, one and all. Kings and queens, those of you who leave feedback. My love and gratitude are all I have to give for your comments, but they're yours if you want them!!


	8. Chapter 8

Sansa groaned and dropped her head to the table. “Seven save me. I can’t stare at this fucking periodic table for another second, Pod. I just. Can’t. I need a break.” She slid out of her seat and went to the cabinet, retrieving a bag of chips, then pulled out two beers from the refrigerator. “Don’tell Arya,” she smirked, handing Pod one of the beers. “They’re her beers.”

Pod nodded, allowing Sansa to pull him to his feet and over to the couch. “What do you want to do? I saw you eyeing up Arya’s new game when you came in. Want to play it?”

Pod’s eyes widened as he looked at Sansa. “Do you know how? To play it? I mean, do you like to? Play video games?”

She snorted. “No, but if you want to play you can.”

“Well, I don’t want you to be bored. If you don’t like video games. You’re the one who wanted to do something else. Besides Chemistry, I mean.”

“And this is something else. Anything that’s not in the shape of that damn table will be just fine with me.” Pod pursed his lips, eyes darting to the game on the entertainment center, and Sansa laughed. “Come on, you know you want to.” She danced over to the TV and turned the console on, tossing a controller to Pod and sticking the disc into the tray. “Don’t worry about me, Pod. I’ll find something to amuse myself.” She pulled the top of the bag of chips until it came open with a small pop and set it down between her leg and Pod’s as they settled onto the couch.

Margaery had seen, of course, when Pod had touched Sansa’s hair at the game. She’d asked a million questions and tried to throw them together at the party, and Pod had been predictably flustered and stuttered almost as much as he did when they’d first met, forcing Sansa to spend nearly the entirety of the last week getting him to settle back down to the level of comfort they’d gotten to before the hype of a national championship and brief moment of awkwardness had nearly set their friendship back a number of months.

Overcoming the discomfort had been enough of a task that Sansa hadn’t had to allow herself to think about the initial event or the way she had reacted to it until Pod had arrived at her apartment an hour ago to study for their first Chemistry quiz, when the memory had come rushing back and left her just slightly short of breath for a moment.

She was fine, though. Sansa had mastered the art of acting as though everything was perfect, and she’d be damned if she let herself get worked up for no reason and make Pod uncomfortable all over again.  

The game booted up, and Sansa watched and listened and asked questions at the proper times as Pod explained the basic premise and storyline of the game to her as he played through the first few minutes. Sansa watched patiently for a while, but after ten or fifteen minutes she found her attention wandering and glanced over at Pod. “Your hair’s getting long,” she reached up and carded her fingers through the thick, dark brown locks that were just beginning to curl at his ears and collar. This was perfect, she told herself. It established that they were exactly the kind of friends who played with each other’s hair whenever they damn well felt like it.

“Yeah,” Pod nodded. “The football team was letting it grow through playoffs. Loras said it was good luck. Letting our hair grow, I mean. Or that cutting our hair during playoffs was bad luck. Or something. And I haven’t gotten around to cutting it yet.”

Sansa giggled. “Well, it obviously worked.” She touched his chin, the scruff there rough against her fingers. “Was it bad luck to shave during playoffs, too?”

Pod shook his head. “No, I just haven’t in a few days. Shaved, I mean.”

Sansa raised her eyebrows. “Yeah. I knew what you meant, Pod.”

Pod flushed slightly, but the fond smile tugging at the corners of her lips kept his embarrassment from becoming too overwhelming. “I know. I do. I just… I get nervous. Sometimes. All the time.”

She leaned over and nudged his shoulder with her own. “It’s okay. I’m just saying. You don’t always have to explain yourself to me. And Arya would say you never have to explain yourself to anyone – either they’ll understand you or they won’t,” she chuckled. “You’re smart, Pod. You communicate better than you give yourself credit for.”

“That’s what Tyrion says,” Pod’s cheeks were still red, and he steadfastly refused to look away from the screen at Sansa.

“Well, Tyrion knows what he’s talking about. And so do I. You should believe us.”

“Sure. I’ll take your word for it,” Pod’s eyes were glued to the screen, but Sansa could see something churning just behind his eyes.

“Here,” Sansa shifted, standing up on the couch cushions and swinging one leg over behind Pod’s head so she could sit on the back of the couch with a leg on either side of Pod’s shoulders. She began running her fingers through her hair, and Pod found it harder and harder to focus on the game with her legs brushing lightly against his shoulders and her hands beginning to deftly pull and twist at his hair, arranging it into something that felt suspiciously like a braid of some sort. He died and restarted from his last checkpoint, squinting at the screen before asking, “What are you doing? To my hair, I me-“ He stopped himself and cleared his throat. “What are you doing?”

Sansa gave Pod a slight squeeze with her knees. “Keeping myself entertained.” She ran her fingers through his hair again, loosening whatever she had done to it and beginning again, this time beginning at the side of his head and working her way across the back. “Can you look down for a sec?” She asked.

Pod did, and was promptly rewarded for his obedience with a kill shot straight to the chest in the game. Sansa scrubbed the second style out with her fingers and tried something else, and Pod would have objected if it didn’t feel so damn good, her fingers working deftly in his hair, massaging and braiding and carding through the thick waves all at once. He could fall asleep to this easily if he wasn’t so aware of her long, slender legs on either side of him and her perfectly pedicured toes curling under and against his own thighs as she moved slightly to sit at whatever angle best suited her purposes.

Sansa frowned as Pod died yet again. “You’re not very good at this game, Pod.”

“Well, I might be if someone wasn’t back there pulling my hair and tugging my head every which way while I’m trying to concentrate,” Pod snarked good-naturedly.

“Oh-ho!” Sansa’s eyebrow shot up, her lips forming a wide ‘O.’ “Well someone else gets a little snippy when he plays video games!”

Instantly contrite, Pod’s cheeks reddened and he mumbled, “Sorry. For snapping at you, I mean.”

“Oh, come on! Don’t get nervous again. It was awesome,” Sansa grinned and nudged him with her knee. “You didn’t stutter or repeat yourself or make unnecessary clarifications. I like confident, snappy Pod. Not that I don’t like cute, stuttering Pod, too. But that’s the most relaxed I’ve ever seen you. It was… It was cool,” she smiled, reaching forward to press a button on the controller in his hands. “So. I’ll stop tugging on your hair, and you can show me how it’s done. How’s that?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the gap between chapters! Thank you all for reading, it means a lot!!


	9. Chapter 9

 “Okay. You ready to add the acid?” Sansa asked, adjusting her goggles and rolling up the sleeves of Pod’s Lions hoodie. She’d been cold and Pod had worn the jacket to class; he’d passed it to her wordlessly fifteen minutes ago when he saw her shoulders shudder just slightly from the chill of the air that always seemed to be on full-blast, regardless of the weather outside. She’d taken it gratefully and shrugged it on, and Pod had tried to push aside the thought that it might smell good like before when she gave it back to him.

Pod nodded, adjusting his own goggles and trying not to think about how dorky he must look when Sansa’s sitting there looking better than any human should have a right to in a pair of bulky, thick goggles and his baggy sweater. He watched her brows furrow beneath the thick plastic as she concentrated on pouring, eyes landing on the soft little crease that formed between her brows. Fuck. Focus, you idiot. This is hardly the time. He lowered the funnel into the burette and waited for Sansa to begin to pour.

As Sansa began to tip the beaker of hydrochloric acid over the funnel, the sleeve of the hoodie slipped down from above her elbow. “Whoops!” She jerked her hand up to catch the sleeve, jerking the beaker upwards in the process and causing a few drops of acid to slosh over the side and onto the sleeve of Pod’s shirt. “Shit!”

He yanked his hand back, and as Sansa realized what she’d done, she the beaker slip from her hand as she instinctively reached for Pod to make sure he was alright. The beaker fell onto its side and spilled its contents all over the desk, splashing onto Pod’s shirt as he leaped out of his seat and away from the table. Sansa, who had jumped up as well, let out a gasp and shrieked, “Gods! It’s on you!”

Professor Qyburn had realized what was going on by now and called, “Get under the shower, Podrick! Quickly!”

Pod froze, and Sansa, still panicking, grabbed his arm and pushed him to the back corner of the room, reaching the safety shower just as Qyburn did and shoving Pod beneath it as Qyburn yanked on the handle to turn it on. She covered her mouth with her hands and began repeating over and over again, “Oh gods I’m sorry I’m so sorry gods oh gods oh gods,” the words muffled by her hands and unintelligible to Pod, who was now drenched all down the left side of his body, where the acid had all landed.

After a seeming eternity had passed, Qyburn, quite calm when compared to the horrified Sansa and stunned Podrick, nodded at Pod. “Take your shirt off.”

Pod blinked, water dripping down his face, and shook his head. “S- sorry?”

“Your shirt will have to come off, Mr. Payne. It’s not safe for you to have it on if there’s acid on it.”

Pod’s face flushed an alarming shade of red as a few soft titters ran through the rest of the class. Sansa whirled and glared around the room furiously, and the giggles faded, although not a single pair of eyes seemed to be fixed anywhere but on Pod as he dropped his head and tugged his shirt off, dropping it to the floor beside him. After another interminable amount of time, Qyburn shut the shower off and nodded. “There we are. No harm done, I think.”

Sansa, who had stared, aghast, as Pod stood under the shower, and whose face was a shade of red that rivaled the color of her hair, quickly shrugged out of Pod’s hoodie and passed it to him to put on. He pulled it on quickly, looking as though he might melt into the floor out of humiliation.

Qyburn surveyed the scene, and once he had determined that Pod was unharmed by the incident, shrugged. “Well, nothing wrong with a little excitement on titration day. Podrick, you are excused if you’d like, your partner may take notes on another group’s experiment and pass them along to you. Feel free to turn in your completed lab report at our next meeting.”

Pod nodded, gathered his things up, and disappeared from the lab without another word; Sansa quietly scooted her seat over to observe and take notes on the nearest group’s experiment, careful not to touch anything, which the other students seemed perfectly happy to allow.

 

 

* * *

“I hate you,” Sansa moaned, throwing herself back dramatically onto Margaery’s bed. “You and Arya, putting evil notions into my head about Pod being hot.”

Margaery gasped and dived onto the bed beside Sansa. “What evil notions? You think Pod’s hot now? Tell me everything!”

“It’s nothing. I just. You know how chemistry’s terrible?” Sansa had her arm thrown over her face and wouldn’t move it as she began to speak.

“Of course,” Margaery nodded, propped up on her elbows and grinning down at her friend.

“Well, I spilled hydrochloric acid on Pod in lab this morning. Like, an entire beaker full.”

“Oh, gods. That’s no good. Is he alright?”

“He’s fine. He had to use the emergency shower though.”

Margaery’s eyebrows flickered upwards, her mouth opening slowly as she emitted a suggestive growl, then bit her lip. “Reeeeally.”

Sansa lowered her arm to scowl at Margaery. “Shut up.”

“I will if you keep talking. Did he have to take his shirt off? Is he as fit as we thought?”

Sansa glared at her without responding for a long while, then covered her face again and muttered, “He’s well fit.” Margaery squealed, and Sansa reached out to smack her. “And he’s so mad at me, he had to take his shirt off in front of the entire class, I completely humiliated him. And _then_ , because of you and Arya and your evil little whisperings, there I was looking at him all shirtless and wet and drippy and thinking about how _fucking hot_ he looked! I could’ve died I was so embarrassed. And that’s nothing compared to how he must have felt.”

“Listen, I appreciate you saying that, you know I always like taking credit for your evil thoughts, but I don’t think you can blame what you saw with your own eyes on me and Arya,” Margaery shrugged, still smiling. “Have you talked to him? I find it hard to believe that Pod could be mad at you.”

“I stopped by his place to drop off the notes I took after he left. Obviously he was perfectly lovely and sweet like always but I couldn’t stop apologizing and he wouldn’t look me in the eyes. Gods, I’ve never felt guiltier about anything. He’s so easily embarrassed and I just – uuugggghhhhhh,” she moaned, reaching for one of Margaery’s pillows and shoving it down tight over her face.

Margaery giggled. “Sansa. You. Are. In. Love with that boy. Look at you, dying because he might be mad at you. I haven’t seen you like this since your freshman year, before you knew what a complete piece of shit Joffrey was.”

“Shut up, Marg.”

“No, listen. You were never this bad with Loras – “

“Shut _up_ – “

“And you certainly never cared much about Harry, even when you were seeing him.”

Sansa sat up, her movements sudden and sharp. “Marg. Pod is my friend. I’m not gonna muck it up by getting some stupid crush on him.”

Margaery flashed her best friend a pitying look. “Darling. It’s a little late for that, don’t you think?”

“No! I’m not – “

“And anyway, he’s smitten with you too. You’re the only person who doesn’t see it.”

“He. Is. Not,” Sansa snarled, tossing the pillow at Margaery’s face. “And there you go again, this is why I blame you for putting evil thoughts in my head.”

Margaery held her hands up, gesturing surrender. “Alright, fine. But look. You spilled hydrochloric acid on the guy and embarrassed him in front of thirty other people. I’d say you at least owe him cookies.”

Sansa glared at Margaery for another long moment, then sighed. “Yeah, I know. I need to stop and get baking stuff at the store before I go home.”

Margaery shook her head. “You’re staying here tonight, you can use whatever we have to bake and I’ll break out the alcohol. It’s the weekend, you’re not going to spend it at home feeling sorry for yourself when you can stay here tonight and have fun and then fix all the Pod stuff tomorrow when you take him baked goods.”

A slight smile tugged at one corner of Sansa’s mouth. “Fine. Fine. You’re right. I’ll fix the Pod stuff tomorrow. What kind of wine have you got?”

“Wine?” Margaery frowned. “Oh no, babes. It’s Friday night, and Friday nights are for tequila.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for taking so long between updates! I was enjoying being on summer break far too much and just relishing not having reading/writing things to do. In any case, thanks for reading, and for all your feedback - it means the absolute world to me, I love you all, you're the best!!


	10. Chapter 10

Pod’s quiet Saturday afternoon was interrupted by a knock at his door. When he pulled it open to find a mildly disheveled and trite-looking Sansa, his brows furrowed in confusion. “Sansa? What are you – do you need your notes back already? From chemistry, I mean. I have them – “

“No – no!” She hastened to assure him. “I just. I felt really bad about yesterday. I made you cookies,” she shoved a plate at him. “To make up for it. I mean, I know it doesn’t make up for it. But I had to do something. Please. I’m really sorry.”

Pod took the plate. “It’s fine, Sansa. Really. It was an accident.”

“I know,” she shrugged, squinting at him a bit, her hair pulled back into a messy bun with strands falling out of it, haphazard. “But this is what I do. I ruined your day, I have to make you cookies. They’re really good, I promise. Margaery helped. A little. She spilled some tequila in the batter, but we tried one and you can’t taste it at all.”

Pod couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped his lips. “I’m sure they’re great, Sansa. Don’t beat yourself up about it. What happened in chemistry, I mean. I’ve… I’ve had worse days.”

She snorted. “That’s comforting.”

“No, really. I’ve done worse to myself.” He considered for a moment, then added, “One time I broke my thumb picking up a ball off the ground.”

One corner of Sansa’s mouth twitched upwards and Pod felt an odd surge of triumph as he shifted the plate of cookies to one hand. Sansa tugged at her shirtsleeves. “Well, I’m glad I didn’t physically injure you, at least.”

“Exactly. And honestly, it was kinda nice, to not be the clumsy one, for once.”

Sansa let out a half-indignant giggle and crinkled up her face in annoyance. “Keep talking like that and I certainly won’t feel bad anymore,” she teased.

“You shouldn’t. Remember when I spilled that beer all over you? We’re even now,” Pod grinned.

Sansa rolled her eyes. “Those things are not remotely the same. But thank you for being so sweet about it.”

Pod chuckled again, oddly nervous. “Do you… want to come in? I’m just watching TV, but we could eat some cookies and maybe order a pizza or something?”

She brightened just slightly. “I mean, if I’m not interrupting anything.”

“You’re not,” Pod hastened to assure her. “I haven’t done anything all day, it’d be nice to have some company.”

She smiled, sending Pod’s stomach skittering around wildly in his torso. “Pizza sounds amazing. Margaery and I put down most of a bottle of tequila last night; I feel like absolute shit. It’d be nice to just sack out on the couch for a bit.”

* * *

A couple of hours later, with a mostly-demolished pizza on the coffee table and a crappy action movie on the TV, Pod was slumped down on one end of the couch with Sansa on the other end, her feet tucked beneath Pod’s thigh and his hand playing lightly with the loose threads around the hem of her jeans, trying not to notice how soft her skin was when his knuckles brushed against her ankles. She yawned and leaned forward to set her soda on the table. The howling from outside made her turn her head to examine the scene outside the window, which was grey and being blown harshly in one direction. “Shit, that wind’s really going huh? I thought it was supposed to be warming up again.”

“S’posed to be cold again over the weekend, and then warm up again by the middle of next week,” Pod mumbled back, stretching his legs and resting his feet on the edge of the table. His eyelids were getting heavy; he didn’t want to move from this spot for the next couple of years if it was at all possible.

“Fuck’s sake,” she sighed, shifting so she was sitting beside him and dropping her head down to rest lightly on his shoulder. “I just got all my sandals and shorts out, put all my jackets away. Guess I’m staying in for the weekend.”

Pod reached behind him and pulled his Lions hoodie from where it had been laying across the back of the couch, swinging it across his body and smacking Sansa lightly in the face with it. She sputtered indignantly and pulled it away from her face, already laughing. “What was that for?”

“Take it with you, when you go. Stay warm. Not that you have to leave. Now, I mean. Stay as long as you want. But whenever you do go.”

“Thanks, you’re a doll.” She chuckled and rolled the hoodie up into a ball, hugging it to her stomach like a pillow. “So the draft is in Highgarden this year,” she yawned. “At the end of the month.”

“Yeah,” Pod nodded. “We’ve got a few guys going. Loras, Joffrey, and Harry all declared. Couple of other guys, too.”

“Mmhmm. I’m going to cover it for the school paper, since Mum and Margaery want me there anyways and we’ve got at least a couple of guys who’ll be getting drafted. But since you’re on the team and you work with Brienne and all, d’you think you might want to go? I’ve got an extra ticket, and we can stay with the Tyrells while we’re there. Only condition is, you’re not allowed to wear any Lions gear while we’re there, it won’t do to have the daughter of the Direwolves’ owner at the draft with a fan of the enemy.”

Pod sat up, staring, dumbfounded, at Sansa. “You want me to go with you?”

She nodded. “If you want to. I just thought you might enjoy it, and since Margaery will be busy the whole time with Loras and the only other people I’ll know there are guys I used to date…”

“You need a buffer?” Pod frowned.

“I’d like to have a _friend_ ,” Sansa replied, stung. “If you don’t want to go – “

“I’d love to,” Pod replied quickly. “Go, I mean. With you. I just. I don’t want you to feel like you have to. Or owe me anything. Or whatever. I mean, if there’s someone else you’d rather take – “

“There isn’t,” Sansa hastened to assure him. “I’ll have more fun with you than anyone else. Arya’s the only other person who’d be interested, but she’s staying home to watch it with Gendry.”

“Well. If you’re sure,” Pod’s eyebrows creased as he looked at her.

She beamed at him. “I’m positive. We’ll fly out Wednesday night of that week, if that’s alright with you, and then head home to Winterfell that Saturday and be back here late Sunday night.” She paused. “I mean, I’ll go home to Winterfell. You can come straight back here, if you’d rather not deal with the madness that comes with my family, but you’re welcome to come if you’d like. Whatever you’d prefer.”

Pod paused for a second, then gave her a soft smile. “That sounds great. Thank you. For inviting me.”

She returned his smile with a dazzling one of her own and as he settled back into his spot, she leaned over to rest her head on his shoulder again. “I can’t think of anyone else I’d rather have there. Thanks for coming with me.”

She slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow, and he reached over to give it a light pat, allowing his hand to linger just a second longer than necessary on hers before he moved it away and tucked it behind his head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoops! It's been a MINUTE since I updated this - my bad, grad school is crazy! Thank you all for reading, you're the best!


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a brief interlude because it's the end of the semester and I'm procrastinating but will soon be dying. The actual next scene is proving time-consuming to write, so it may be a minute before it's up, but I wanted to write something with my sweet babies, so please. Enjoy this little snack between chapters.

AS: _What’s all this about the punter’s gf spilling acid on him in lab?_

SS: _Dunno. Don’t think the punter has a gf. Also don’t think he does acid._

AS: _Shut the fk up. you spilled acid on him in lab?_

SS: _Can’t answer that, busy shutting the fuck up._

AS: _YOU DID.  
_ AS: _Was he hurt? did u fuck him to make up for it?  
_ AS: _IS THAT WHY YOU DIDN’T COME HOME LAST NIGHT?  
_ AS: _YOU WERE AT “MARG’S”?_

SS: _I was at Marg’s last night.  
_ SS: _He wasn’t hurt. Just embarrassed. And I feel terrible about it so let’s drop it, k?_

AS: _Well ppl are saying your his gf, you know this._

SS: _*You’re  
_ SS: _Ppl are idiots, Arya._

AS: _No, *you’re an idiot. why don’t u just fuckin date him already?_

SS: _Because we’re not you and Gendry._

AS: _No kidding. you never argue and ur clearly not getting laid enough._

SS: _Gah. At least do me the courtesy of allowing me plausible deniability about your sex life for when Mum asks._

AS: _D_ _oes she ask often?_

SS: _No, but I’m going home in two weeks. You know she will then._

AS: _Ugh. don’t answer if she does._

SS: _Only if you promise to drop the Pod stuff._

AS: _And if I don’t?_

SS: _I’ll tell her about the time I walked in on you guys on the couch and had to go bleach my eyes at Pod’s._

AS: _I’LL FUCKING KILL YOU._   
AS: _Also, does Pod wanna come over and watch the Draft with me and Gen, since you’ll be gone? there’ll be snacks and beer. and Hot Pie and Lommy._

SS: _Can’t. He’s coming to Highgarden with me._

AS: _Ur unbelievable.  
_ AS: _But I guess at least that means Mum will be asking about ur sex life and not mine._

SS: _Not if I tell her the couch story first._

AS: _I. WILL. FUCKING. KILL YOU._

SS: _Love you too xx_

AS: _Wait. does this mean he’s going home with you, too?_  
AS: _Sansa._  
AS: _IS POD GOING TO WINTERFELL?????_  
AS: _How are u introducing him?_   
AS: _SANSA_  
AS: _Mum will fuckin love him._   
AS: _ANSWER ME, GODS DAMMIT._

_Missed call from Arya Stark_

_Missed call from Arya Stark._

AS: _You’re the worst._   
AS: _Just at least tell me if u elope, yeah?_   
AS: _Fine. Fuck you too. Don’t tell Mum about the couch thing xx_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, y'all are the best!


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